


Crazy for You

by Jenivi7



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Dr. Anzu!, Everyone else is a crazy mfer!, F/M, Manipulashipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:27:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29838759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenivi7/pseuds/Jenivi7
Summary: He finally looks up and she's not sure if she likes what she sees in his face. “Please be careful, Dr. Mazaki. More often than not, the doctors that come to this place end up just as crazy as the patients.”  Originally written for Compy's Pairings Contest in 2009.
Relationships: Marik Ishtar/Mazaki Anzu | Tea Gardner
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	Crazy for You

**Author's Note:**

> I just remember this one being so much fun to write. And it's still one of my favorites to go back and read.

The keys are too large and too heavy for the doctor more used to more modern facilities but she doesn't say anything, just follows the orderly as he pulls the large door open. He strains under its weight though he must open the thing ten times a day.

Through the doors, into the dim halls that seem a portal to another decade and she thinks that as soon as she can, she'll upgrade the lighting as well as the locks. Fluorescents and keycards, that's what this place needs. And doors with smaller windows. As it is, half the doors are just open bars and she can see the patients far too easily as the orderly walks her down the corridor making light chit chat and pointing out the more interesting patients. Many of the disorders are extreme but still, this is a hospital, not a jail and everyone deserves privacy.

“This one talks about nothing but his wife and begs for painting supplies. When we give them to him though, he only paints monsters and it seems to upset that one across the hall. That one there thinks he’s psychic. Be careful of this one here, he's polite as can be but has dissociative identity disorder and his alternate knows how to pick locks. This one... actually, he's the sweetest one here. Sweet but schizophrenic. Talks to himself a lot when he thinks no one's watching. And that one is convinced that this one killed his father and has sworn revenge, even though he killed the man himself before he arrived here.”

She listens patiently and he leads her all the way to the back, showing her a spacious office with its own closet sized bed and bath tucked away behind yet another door.

“Some of the past doctors liked to spend the night if they were keeping an eye on a particularly difficult patient.”

He avoids her eye and hands over a full set of keys, explaining the number system engraved on their cold iron.

He finally looks up and she's not sure if she likes what she sees in his face.

“Please be careful, Dr. Masaki, more often than not, the doctors that come to this place end up just as crazy as the patients.”

She laughs and assures him that things will be fine.

* * *

She's had the fixtures changed and the bulbs replaced, several times, but the halls never seem to get any brighter.

* * *

She sees shadows now. Not ones cast naturally, but ones that crawl about the walls, blacker than black and she knows where the extra light goes. They eat it.

* * *

The keys are still large and heavy and she keeps oil in her office because they stick in the locks but she doesn't even think of changing them anymore. For some reason, the larger the lock, the better she feels.

* * *

She doesn't go home anymore and when she does go out, it's to buy more alcohol. She's seen the monsters on Mr. Crawford's canvas move, she can now see the difference between Ryou and his alternate even as the orderly can't, and sometimes laughter, his and others, echoes down the halls and mocks her all the way to her office where she bolts the door and drinks to forget.

* * *

When Malik kisses her impulsively and his sessions become more than just therapy, it's not ethical at all and she knows it but she's long since abandoned ethics ever since she saw the living shadow in Yugi's cell, the shadow of his own image that wraps around him tightly and possessively and looks straight at her when she passes by. Somehow she knows that the thing controls the other shadows just as she knows that it hates her.

* * *

And when it all goes horribly wrong one day, she doesn't care anymore. When Ryou, who now insists on being called Bakura, picks the lock on his door and everyone else's, the first she knows of it is Malik coming to her office. But he's not Malik, he's someone, something, else and his touch is rough and unpleasant but by this time in the evening there's been too much scotch (another half bottle gone) and she can't find a way to refuse properly. He thanks her mockingly afterwards before leaving and she picks up her clothes and pulls them over herself as best she can before stumbling out into the hall.

The first thing she sees is blood and she follows it to the body of the orderly, slumped against the wall. Six different knives jut out from his chest in a circle and she thinks it might mean something but she's too drunk to think what. She runs further down the halls and every single door is open, the bars and heavy wood making the space a maze. All of the cells are empty. 

She sobs and she's frightened but she also has the driving need to _witness_. When she comes to Yugi's cell, he's still there, the only one left, sitting patiently and waiting for her despite the door being just as open as everyone else's. She stifles a scream.

He smiles at her with a sympathetic understanding which is somehow far too sane for this time and this place. The shadow child watches her over his shoulder with eyes as red as the orderly's blood. When Yugi steps forward to greet her and she steps back, he stops and sighs, speaking to her from inside his cell still.

"It's okay, it's not your fault. Too much magic concentrated in one place can make people see things they're not supposed to." He moves forward again and when she doesn't step back this time, he pats her reassuringly on the arm. "You can still be a dancer, you know."

He turns and walks down the hall toward the front doors and, despite the shadow that clings so intimately to him, she thinks she can see him glow. The thought comes to her, unbidden, that if he learns to control the creature that glares at her even now, that he just might save them all. 

When he's gone and she's alone, she slides down the wall (as she thinks the orderly must have and wonders whether the knives were placed there before or after he died and knows it must have been after because there had been no blood around them). She pulls her knees to her chest and cries. For the career she's messed up, for the one she could have had if she'd stood up to her parents long ago, and for fright because she had never never never told anyone about how desperately she's longed for something so very different.


End file.
